Arriving just in time for a second UK lockdown comes a Veins Full of Static album made during the early days of the first one. I’d much rather this record had no relevance whatsoever to our current situation and instead felt like a reminder of a bad dream we'd all awoken from. But here we are..
Bandcamp is currently awash with releases that were written and/or recorded during the lockdown period as everyone did their best to make peace with normal life being, at best, put on hiatus. It’s only natural for anyone able to record at home to process such a huge moment through music (though many felt, understandably, too overwhelmed to write or record anything). Me, I had no choice but to set up an office in my rudimentary home studio, an unfortunate merging of work and creative space (which, while not ideal, is not a bad place to be compared to the situations many found themselves in). Stuck in that small room, having just torn up my old creative process in favour of something I hadn't yet gotten to grips with, I found myself creating clouds of ambient noise and doleful drones in my spare moments, taking field recordings on the short walks I allowed myself and blending them with synths and string VSTs. I was aiming for serenity, using their creation as an escape such as I was, but listening back you can hear how infused with the anxiety of that strange moment these tracks are.
Instead I feel they reflect the way our relationship with time disintegrates once our usual markers are removed - commutes, weekend trips, the act of travel delineating work and leisure - and, on ‘Willoughby’ (inspired by the Twilight Zone episode of the same name), how a testing Now invariably make us crave an illusory safe Then. Its slow shifts and submerged melodies reflect an uneasy peace with sudden isolation that briefly gives way to a more dramatic outpouring of yearning for the old normal towards its end. As it closes an understanding is reached that yesterday is not enough; whatever comes next has to be better than what came before.
Temporum is a Latin word that roughly translates to ‘season.’ I had hoped it would refer to a shorter period than the one we find ourselves still trapped within.
Made with a mix of hardware and VSTs, Temporum was recorded and mixed in a small, dark box room in Barry, Wales. It will be released on digital and limited edition cassette on 16th October 2020 on Disintegration State records.
Great album, love the dreamy nostalgic spacey-ness. The old educational samples transport me back to early school days in the TV room and when all we had to worry about was if we were wearing the right trainers or swapping Panini football stickers. vsep13